Ok. Not always. But I’m still been very busy this week. First and foremost, I got exams and I don’t know how many times I have written in here that I despise exams. While being occupied by exams, I had to figure out this ridiculously tedious and difficult experiment and try to write a sensible report when I have no idea what the hell went during the experiment. The calculation was very long and tediously stupid. It’s a good thing that they sold energy drinks at the nearest konbini.
The next day I went out surveying several available apartments because I have to get out from the university’s foreign student dormitory next year. Went to several good ones, and several bad ones; and in the end we (me and zarul) had found the perfect apartment. Good mortgage fees, not so very far from the university, beautiful tatami floorings and kind landlords helped us made the decision to choose that apartment.
On Thursday, I was invited to this meeting to discuss and give out opinions about how to better the university’s library. Well, of course the main reason that I agreed to participate in this meeting was for the food. And it’s an easy meeting. All I got to do is bad mouth the university’s library system, and I got fed with sweet tasting berry cake. It’s always about the food. Always.
Before that though, I was invited to another party by another stranger. This time, the stranger was a Japanese retiree who lived in pulau pinang for 3 years. He said the party is for celebrating the fifth year of the establishment of his海外浪漫倶楽部. Err that translates to something like this: Romantic Overseas Club. Yeah. The name was awesome.
So I was supposed to represent
But I was wrong. Every time I knock on her door, she was not there. I tried 3 days to contact her but in vain. I started to think that this girl does not live there anymore. And I started to remember some scenes from the horror thai film nang nak. I don’t know why. So several days passed by, and just 2 hours before the Japanese retiree came to pick me up for the party, at last I got hold of the mysterious thai girl. So I asked her to come with me to the party. And she was surprised. And she started to talk. Very fast. Man, she talks A LOT.
Now I know the reason why she doesn’t want to join the party. It’s not about her Japanese language abilities. It’s because she thought that the Japanese retiree was a dirty old pervert! In Japanese we say it スケベおやじ (sukebe oyaji). So she told me that she first met the oyaji when he knock on her door one day, telling her about his travels in thailand and how he loves Thailand, and he would like to be friends with thai people and stuff.
So she told her research partners and professors at the university about this oyaji, but her professor was being suspicious about this oyaji so he made some background check up on him. And it turned out to be that he was giving her some suspiciously incorrect information about his work place; when the professor called the place, the people there does not recognise this person. And that makes her scared so she asked her professor to talk to this oyaji and refuse politely from this offer to join him in the (also) suspiciously named ‘romance club’ party. And she thought she was the only foreigner invited. Even after refusing to join the party, the now suspicious oyaji phoned her cell phone several times. She was afraid, so she never answers the phone. And now because she does not answer the phone, the oyaji asked me to persuade her because I live so close to her.
Of course the oyaji could just come up to her room again and persuade her himself, but that would be very dangerous for him because last year, there was a case of another oyaji who harassed some Korean girls living in the dormitory, and the dormitory suddenly became more aware of pervert old Japanese men who wants some foreigner’s ass and tits. Tits and ass. I don’t know which one comes first.
But now she knew that I was coming too, she said that she would surely agree to join the party because she felt safer. That’s a nice thing to hear. Although it’s been clear now, I started to worry. What if this oyaji is a real pervert? I mean a mean fucking pervert machine? I don’t want to end up being raped by a group of old Japanese men! I want to be raped by a group of multicultural troupe of nurses and kindergarten teachers. Hmm, did I say something wrong there?
Anyways, the oyaji came and picked me up right on time. The thai girl already have other plans so she is not going. I wished I could’ve contacted her earlier. Anyways, in the car, I was praying. Oh please keep my ass hole from intruding vintage penises.
And thank God. The party is a legit one. There was no orgy. There was neither semen nor blood flowing. I forgot. These people are old! They have no semen left! Silly me!
I have never attended a party where the youngest female is 65 years old. I can tell you this; a party without young girls is a tedious and boring one. With that said, the party was still a uniquely weird experience. During the duration of the party, sometimes they invited some random club members to take the stage and gave a speech. The contents of these speeches were… weird and sad to say the least. In a nut shell, all of the speech given could be translated to this: “Come on my fellow retirees! Let us take care of our health and live longer; don’t give up on your life and find something interesting to do while waiting for your coffin to be ready.” There was also one shocking speech in which this already very drunk oyaji went up the stage to tell the whole members that 2 of their members tried to commit suicide last month. One succeeded, while the other failed miserably. That’s fucked up.
Of course I was invited to make a speech, but what can I say to these old people? To hold on and don’t die yet? I thought I was a good public speaker and am more than able to talk about any topic, but this is just too alien for me. I managed to crack only one joke. That’s pretty horrible. But each success was supported by failures right?
When the food arrived on the table, I was prepared and ready. There were tempuras. Gulatan awabi, which is DELICIOUS. Grilled shrimp. Sashimi and a bunch of other Japanese food I have no idea what the name was. I was really focused on eating as much as I could because the dinner looks very expensive. And one by one, came club members offering to pour sake (Japanese rice wine) into my glass. And every time, I have to refuse politely. And when they asked why, I almost jokingly answer it like this: I don’t drink alcohol; I drink the blood of infidels instead because I’m a jacket-bomb strapping terrorist muslim hahaha! Of course, being a polite society-person, I politely said it was a personal principle.
Unexpectedly, it was a pretty intense party. I was busy trying to get all this delicious food into my mouth while being an interpreter to the other non-japanese speaking foreigners they invited while at the same time trying to answer questions from drunk Japanese retirees about Malaysia. I talked a lot, and of course with food in all over and inside my mouth.
Party’s over and I was safely returned to the dormitory. My anus was not invaded, and I was not group-raped so I guess it was a successful evening.
Oh, I forgot to mention. Before attending the party, I went to an orchestra performance show by the
It was a busy week, but a rich one.
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